


Supernatural Coda 15x13

by StolenChilde



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x13 coda, Communication, Implied Slash, Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23337451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StolenChilde/pseuds/StolenChilde
Summary: After the fade to black. Dean has some things to deal with.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	Supernatural Coda 15x13

It wasn’t the smartest move, but then again Dean Winchester never claimed to be smart. Just that _look_ on Jack’s face. That plea of forgiveness. A glimmer of hope, even though he never imagined he would actually get it.

So Dean ran, he grabbed a glass and bottle of whiskey and he ran. He locked himself in his room and slapped his headphones over his ears and hadn’t moved in the last two hours. God, those tears. Dean couldn’t shake that. Of all the things. The _tears_ in Jack’s eyes, is what lingered. There was a deepness there that had been missing for far too many months and now it was back and Jack was fucking _sorry_ and Dean didn’t know what to do with that information. Did he hate the kid? No. Never. He thought he did for a while but he could no more hate Jack than he could hate Sam or Cas. He was family plain and simple and he was just a kid. A stupid kid who was out of control and instead of coming to them for _help_ he tried to fix it on his own. Sure what he did was pretty damn fucking big. There would always be anger and maybe a little resentment. But not hate.

_“Please. Just... Please forgive me.”_

Dean had long since given up on the glass and took a long draw from the bottle then shut his eyes tight. He needed to break something. That’s what he needed to do. Or shoot something. Or punch something. Or…

“Dean.” No knock. No request to come in. They were passed that now. They were passed waiting for the right time. The two of them. Castiel pushed his way into the room and closed the door softly behind him.

“What if I was watching porn,” Dean muttered sullenly, pulling his headphones off and tossing them lightly to the floor.

Castiel just a cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t really think this would have been an appropriate time for that.”

“Shut up.”

“All right.”

Castiel came over and invited himself to sit on the bed next to Dean. Not at the foot, or at the head but full on stretched out, forcing Dean to move over sat on the bed right next to Dean and leaned against the headboard. He also reached for the whiskey bottle, checked the label and took a drink, then handed it back.

They sat like that, shoulder to shoulder, Dean keeping track of each one of Castiel’s measured, deliberate, unnecessary breaths. Castiel stared ahead; his hands folded in his lap and waited.

“You aren’t gonna say _anything?_ ” Dean asked, after a few moments of passing the whiskey bottle back and forth between them.

“You told me to shut up,” Castiel replied.

“Smartass.”

“Well, I have had a terrible influence over the past several years. Over a decade now.”

“God, really?” Dean cringed a little. “Make me feel old.”

“Well, you aren’t as young as you used to be.”

Dean saw Castiel’s smirk and nudged him none- too-gently with his shoulder.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Dean. If nothing else, I’ve learned that’s not the best strategy when contending with you.”

“Contending, huh?”

“Yes, you’re a real heavyweight.”

Dean shook his head and smiled despite himself. “Truth?”

“Always.”

“I don’t know _how_ to feel. Can I really blame the kid for doing something, as terrible and awful as it was, without his soul? Do I hold that over Sam, when he did all those horrible things without his? And I can _see_ how much he’s hurting. And I can only imagine how he’s feeling, now that he understands what it is that he did. All the things he did. Not just… Mom. There’s a big part of me that wants to tell him it’s all right. To take that pain away from his eyes. Or some of it anyway. He’s going to have to live with this for the rest of his life. But Cas… _Mom_.” Dean’s voice broke then, just a little, he didn’t bother trying to hide it.

“I mean. How can I be so fucking angry but still want to take away all that pain? What even is that?”

“I think it’s fatherhood, Dean.”

“Jesus fuck.” Dean scrubbed at his face with his hands and took another long pull of whiskey.

“How bad is it?” Dean asked.

“Well, I went to his room first.”

Dean snorted in gentle amusement. “Of course. Fatherhood.”

“Yes, well. It seems to have plagued us all. He’s been in his room almost as long as you have. A lot less drinking though and far more tears. His heart broke the minute he got his soul back. He loved her too. And he loves you.”

“I know… I know he did. He does. I just… I don’t think I can do it right now. He’s about as subtle as you are and it coming out like that. It… Threw me. I wasn’t ready for that.”

“Would you ever have been?”

“No. Probably not.”

“Maybe for now, just let him know you don’t hate him. The difficult conversation can come later. When you’ve processed and he’s not so raw.”

“Yeah. I can do that.” Dean handed the bottle to Cas and stood up. He headed towards the door. Cas put the bottle down and followed.

“And Dean…” Cas put a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean turned and smiled, gently brushing a finger along Castiel’s stubbled jaw. “Yeah, I know Cas and me too.”

**End**


End file.
